Anyone remember Ye Old Dial-Up Internets? When computers used those archaic 56K modem thingies to literally dial into ISPs, and the horrible screeching sounds of a thousand cats being bathed occupied your phone line? Oh yeah, gooood times. *cringes*
What really sucked about Ye Old Dial-Up were the frequent and annoying drops in the connection. Sometimes I’d be working on a story with Barb or RPing, and without warning—POOF! Then would come the long re-dialing process, and it took me a mother of a time to figure out how to mute the modem speaker because DAAAAYUM that bugger was really loud at 3am!
But the Dark Dial-up Age ended once I finally moved into the 21st century (sometime in 2006) and got me some High Speed Internets. Now, a new era of uninterrupted online time has led to the creation of many stories chock full of m/m smexing (and *gasp* occasionally m/f or m/m/f too) with my partner-in-crime! A few have already been published, bunches more are on the way, and some are just short little trysts for fun.
KITSUNE is one of those short stories, taking place a few years after the events of Soul of the Night. There aren’t many beings powerful enough to prey on vampires, but Kiyoshi and Ryuhei find themselves having to deal with a pretty demoness who’s got some plans of her own with the two lovers.
Over the next few weeks, Barb and I will be serializing the Kitsune here at Slash-and-Burn, so please remember to bookmark this blog and check back often. We hope you enjoy~!
**
KITSUNE
Chapter 1
France, 1880
Kiyoshi made his way down the empty aisle towards their compartment, his shoes making no sound on the carpeting. The train bounced along the tracks as it raced towards the city, now only a few miles away, and slivers of moonlight darting across the compartment walls as it streamed in through the windows.
Muffled noises and yawns came from behind the closed doors as passengers started to wake. A man with sleepy eyes and disheveled hair popped out of the compartment in front of Kiyoshi, mumbled something groggily in French and stumbled past him towards the dining car no doubt for some coffee.
Giving a polite bow as the man walked away, Kiyoshi stopped at the next compartment and slipped inside.
“Ask me how to say something in French,” Ryuhei dropped the newspaper he’d been reading on to his lap and peered at Kiyoshi over the top of his wire-rimmed glasses.
“Why are you wearing those?” Kiyoshi cocked his head to one side, sliding the door closed behind him. He hadn’t even realized when during their trip across Europe Ryuhei had gotten the glasses. He certainly didn’t need them, Ryuhei’s vision being far sharper than any mortal’s could ever be.
Ryuhei blinked. “Don’t you think they look sexy?”
“They do, actually,” Kiyoshi confessed, crossing the tight little compartment to sit down on the seat next to Ryu.
Everyone else on the train had just started to wake after the long train ride through the night. For Kiyoshi and Ryuhei, there was nothing unusual about being up at four in the morning. Ryuhei leaned back against the cloth seat, dressed in ash gray trousers and a crimson vest, his coat carefully folded on the empty bench opposite him.
“Now go on, ask me,” Ryuhei insisted, playfully waving the folded newspaper through the air. “I’ve been practicing for this trip.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Kiyoshi laughed and sat down on the cloth seat next to Ryuhei, drawing his knees up under his chin. He reached over and fingered the hem of Ryuhei’s vest, tracing his fingertips over the embroidered silk. “Anything is fine, Ryu-san.”
“Je t'aime.” Ryuhei turned in his seat, leaning into Kiyoshi’s touch. He tossed the newspaper onto the seat across from them, placing his hand over Kiyoshi’s.
“That’s beautiful,” Kiyoshi breathed.
Ryuhei leaned in, gently brushing his lips across Kiyoshi’s. “They say French is the language of love,” he murmured, moving his free hand to tug open Kiyoshi’s collar. His kiss deepened and Kiyoshi felt the small prick of Ryuhei’s fangs on his lips.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Contest Winner!
The lovely Ms. Shayla is the winner of Barb & Anne's contest, and she's chosen a PDF edition of Winter Song. Woo hoo!!
Thank you again to everyone who commented and has been hanging out with us here at Slash & Burn!
Thank you again to everyone who commented and has been hanging out with us here at Slash & Burn!
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Swordspoint
Swordspoint by Ellen Kushner is probably the first book I read that started me on the road to writing m/m romance. It's gay romance at its best. Though it's marketed as fantasy, rightly so, its throughline is the romantic relationship between Richard and Alec. (Aside: I so love the name Alec. Love it enough to have one of my current heroes named Alec, though his lover is Seamus and his personality is completely different than the unstable Alec of Swordspoint.)
Swordspoint is less explicit than today’s m/m epub romances. The worldbuilding is exquisite. Set in a Regency-like city where lives are worth little and self-interested nobles betray each other at a drop of a hat, the details of Kushner’s world and her characterization are wonderful. Richard is a lethal swordsman who will probably die young and Alec is a noble who has run away from his family and is now slumming it with a death wish.
I've read it twice, but I feel the urge to pick it up a third time.
Anyone else a fan of Swordspoint?
----------------
And in other news, for my contest winner: jennybrat email me for details!
Swordspoint is less explicit than today’s m/m epub romances. The worldbuilding is exquisite. Set in a Regency-like city where lives are worth little and self-interested nobles betray each other at a drop of a hat, the details of Kushner’s world and her characterization are wonderful. Richard is a lethal swordsman who will probably die young and Alec is a noble who has run away from his family and is now slumming it with a death wish.
I've read it twice, but I feel the urge to pick it up a third time.
Anyone else a fan of Swordspoint?
----------------
And in other news, for my contest winner: jennybrat email me for details!
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
I dropped the ball :(
First off, sorry to be posting so late. I know, I'm a loser with a big L. What can I say, it's been a LONG day. But I'm here now and that's all that matters right? Better late than never? I've learned to live with that motto since having children. Pre-babies I couldn't stand to be late. Now...not so much. I couldn't care less, especially if it's something to do with my hubby's family. Hello. If they don't make it on time, I don't have to either, right?
Anyway. My winner is Ali!!! Yeah. Go Ali. Not you Ally, but ALI. You can pick any of my previous downloads, OR a GC to Samhain, OR if you don't mind waiting a bit, you can have a download of Two Sighted. It's not m/m but it's due out May 8th. It's a short story with paranormal elements :) Let me know. annmarmck@yahoo.com
I'm LMAO at Ally's previous comment about running. I started yesterday running again. I trained my ass off last summer for a triathlon in Oct. All that work and I wrecked my bike at the very end of the bike portion. Nice. So the next race is in June and I haven't done a durn thing to train for it until yesterday. I'm not in it to win, I'm in it to finish and prove to myself that I can finish. Without wrecking. :) Good thing I remember none of it and therefore am not scared to death about getting back on the dang thing. Ally, I commend you for the 5 miles. I went 1 measly mile yesterday and it was way less than pretty. Today, I can't move. My legs hurt sooo bad. So here's to all you die hard runners and bikers and swimmers out there. I envy you.
Happy Wednesday, everyone.
Anyway. My winner is Ali!!! Yeah. Go Ali. Not you Ally, but ALI. You can pick any of my previous downloads, OR a GC to Samhain, OR if you don't mind waiting a bit, you can have a download of Two Sighted. It's not m/m but it's due out May 8th. It's a short story with paranormal elements :) Let me know. annmarmck@yahoo.com
I'm LMAO at Ally's previous comment about running. I started yesterday running again. I trained my ass off last summer for a triathlon in Oct. All that work and I wrecked my bike at the very end of the bike portion. Nice. So the next race is in June and I haven't done a durn thing to train for it until yesterday. I'm not in it to win, I'm in it to finish and prove to myself that I can finish. Without wrecking. :) Good thing I remember none of it and therefore am not scared to death about getting back on the dang thing. Ally, I commend you for the 5 miles. I went 1 measly mile yesterday and it was way less than pretty. Today, I can't move. My legs hurt sooo bad. So here's to all you die hard runners and bikers and swimmers out there. I envy you.
Happy Wednesday, everyone.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Feeling a bit "Geddy" today...
That's because I got lucky today on the Rush concert ticket pre-sale. Front section, Geddy's side! (You have to be a real fan to know that - Geddy is usually positioned stage left)Anyway, I get to see the man of my dreams up close this year when Rush tours! I'm so excited hours after securing my tix, I don't think I'll be getting anything done today.
If you have followed my blogs and websites and such, you probably know music plays a large role in my writing. My first two romances, Truth or Dare and Dare Me, feature musician heroes, as did The Healing. My next project will also feature a musician in the lead, though that will be more of a mystery than a romance - but still hot!
Anyway, I'm often asked in interviews about music and if I listen to music as I write. For me, it's almost a necessity. I can't explain what it is about music that stimulates my creativity. It could be a melody or a lyric that inspires. It could be the rhythm or the steady beat of a practiced bass that helps paint an erotic scene. Whatever the reason, I am not far from my iTunes when I write.
What I do I listen to? Mainly classic rock. Rush, Zeppelin, Warren Zevon, Traffic, Zappa...just to name a few. Sometimes I fuel an entire work off one album. When writing Muse, I must have listened to Traffic's The Low Spark of High-Heeled Boys a thousand times consecutively! These days, however, my daughter likes to watch American Idol, so I find two nights a week are reserved for that. Though I have to admit the banter between Simon and Ryan is starting to annoy me. I just may write a new chapter in The Healing where Julian and Dan refuse to have their songs showcased.
Well, we'll see how much writing I get done tonight.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Sex In Romantic Fiction
When do sex scenes cross the line from being titillating into being boring and repetitive?
During my recent reading, I read a series of books that were basically one long sex scene broken up into chapters. Now normally I would say you can’t have too many hot sex scenes, I’m certainly guilt of putting enough of them my work, but what about when the plot is so minor it’s almost invisible because of said sex scenes? I mean, I want the good stuff, but I think it’s imperative to have a reason for the good stuff. 500 pages worth of gratuitous sex scenes with a thinly veiled plot briefly mentioned in passing on every 150th page or so isn’t enough for me to sink my teeth into. I need more meat(pun intended *g*).
So, curious minds want to know what you all think? Do you prefer a good plot with hot scenes as a bonus, or would you rather see less talk and more action?
During my recent reading, I read a series of books that were basically one long sex scene broken up into chapters. Now normally I would say you can’t have too many hot sex scenes, I’m certainly guilt of putting enough of them my work, but what about when the plot is so minor it’s almost invisible because of said sex scenes? I mean, I want the good stuff, but I think it’s imperative to have a reason for the good stuff. 500 pages worth of gratuitous sex scenes with a thinly veiled plot briefly mentioned in passing on every 150th page or so isn’t enough for me to sink my teeth into. I need more meat(pun intended *g*).
So, curious minds want to know what you all think? Do you prefer a good plot with hot scenes as a bonus, or would you rather see less talk and more action?
Contest Winner
The winner from last weeks blog contest is Chris Roberts. Please email me at Amandasromance@aol.com with your book preference (Something More or Missing In Action) and formatting requirements. Congrats!
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Ally's Running Diary
(thoughts while running five-and-a-half miles on a beautiful Sunday morning)
halfway down my driveway: Wonder if I should go pee one more time? Naw.
.2 miles: It's cold out here. I should've worn a jacket.
.75 miles: Dang, I have to pee.
1 mile: I am so slow! I'm the slowest runner in the world! Waaaaaaah!
1.5 miles: There's that abandoned dairy farm. Wonder what lives in that barn? Axe murderers? Aliens?? Lovecraftian monsters??? Oh yeah, plot bunnies. Damn them.
1.75 miles: Uh-oh. The trailer with the Scary People living in it. What if their dog barks and wakes them up, and they blame ME for it, and they are still so halfway drunk on homemade rot-gut that they get up out of bed in their underwear, grab the shotgun and KILL ME??? How long would I lie there in the ditch until someone found me??? Eep...
**runs faster**
2 miles: **checks watch** Oh now THAT'S more like it! Go me!
2.75 miles: Okay, when did all these people move here? There is no place to pee!
3.5 miles: Dang, it's hot out here. Maybe I should take off my shirt.
4 miles: Hey, that kid in the dune buggy just honked at me! Oh yeah. I still got it.
4.25 miles: **struggling to run on sloped, lumpy shoulder for the thirty-thousandth time after being forced off road by traffic** Where the heck are all these people going??? Stupid motorized vehicles.
5 miles: OMG WHY IS THIS HILL SO STEEP??? I am going to die! Wonder if anyone would stop? If they did, how would they know who to call? I don't even have any I.D. on me! CRAP, I'M GOING TO DIE HALF A MILE FROM HOME AND NO ONE WILL KNOW WHO I AM AND MY FAMILY WILL NEVER KNOW WHAT BECAME OF ME!!!
5.1 miles: **crests hill** I love running downhill, yay!!
5.5 miles: Woo-hoo, I made it! I rock so effin' hard! I am the greatest athlete in the world!
back at the house: **runs really fast to the bathroom** Next time, NO COFFEE before a run!
Whenever I go running, I learn something. Either about myself, the world in general, or just about one of my characters. Today, I learned that you never know how many people live in an area until you are running on the roads there and looking for a nice private place to pee where no one can see. Around here? There is evidently no such thing.
So what's your favorite way to relax, zone out and sink deep into your own head? What makes it special to you? Share!
halfway down my driveway: Wonder if I should go pee one more time? Naw.
.2 miles: It's cold out here. I should've worn a jacket.
.75 miles: Dang, I have to pee.
1 mile: I am so slow! I'm the slowest runner in the world! Waaaaaaah!
1.5 miles: There's that abandoned dairy farm. Wonder what lives in that barn? Axe murderers? Aliens?? Lovecraftian monsters??? Oh yeah, plot bunnies. Damn them.
1.75 miles: Uh-oh. The trailer with the Scary People living in it. What if their dog barks and wakes them up, and they blame ME for it, and they are still so halfway drunk on homemade rot-gut that they get up out of bed in their underwear, grab the shotgun and KILL ME??? How long would I lie there in the ditch until someone found me??? Eep...
**runs faster**
2 miles: **checks watch** Oh now THAT'S more like it! Go me!
2.75 miles: Okay, when did all these people move here? There is no place to pee!
3.5 miles: Dang, it's hot out here. Maybe I should take off my shirt.
4 miles: Hey, that kid in the dune buggy just honked at me! Oh yeah. I still got it.
4.25 miles: **struggling to run on sloped, lumpy shoulder for the thirty-thousandth time after being forced off road by traffic** Where the heck are all these people going??? Stupid motorized vehicles.
5 miles: OMG WHY IS THIS HILL SO STEEP??? I am going to die! Wonder if anyone would stop? If they did, how would they know who to call? I don't even have any I.D. on me! CRAP, I'M GOING TO DIE HALF A MILE FROM HOME AND NO ONE WILL KNOW WHO I AM AND MY FAMILY WILL NEVER KNOW WHAT BECAME OF ME!!!
5.1 miles: **crests hill** I love running downhill, yay!!
5.5 miles: Woo-hoo, I made it! I rock so effin' hard! I am the greatest athlete in the world!
back at the house: **runs really fast to the bathroom** Next time, NO COFFEE before a run!
Whenever I go running, I learn something. Either about myself, the world in general, or just about one of my characters. Today, I learned that you never know how many people live in an area until you are running on the roads there and looking for a nice private place to pee where no one can see. Around here? There is evidently no such thing.
So what's your favorite way to relax, zone out and sink deep into your own head? What makes it special to you? Share!
Winner of last week's contest is...
... INGRID! You've won your choice of any one of my currently available ebooks! Email me at ally@allyblue.com to claim your prize!
Thanks to everyone who posted on last week's blog, I loved hearing about how all of you got pulled into the wonderful world of manlove :D Congrats to Ingrid!
Back in a minute with a new blog for this week...
Thanks to everyone who posted on last week's blog, I loved hearing about how all of you got pulled into the wonderful world of manlove :D Congrats to Ingrid!
Back in a minute with a new blog for this week...
Friday, March 23, 2007
Cultural Barrier? I Don't See No Stinkin' Barrier--I See HAWT Men!
Anne and I are thrilled to be part of the talented group here at Slash and Burn and while we definitely write plenty of hot man sex, our work is heavily influenced by the Yaoi genre and the talented gorgeous men of Japanese rock. In recent months we've been told that using Asians and Asian Americans as lead characters presents too much of a cultural barrier to breech.
To this we say simply WTF?!?
Our super publishers, reviewers and readers don't have a problem connecting with the universal human emotions we tap into when writing so we were totally dumbfounded (though not really surprised) to find that the more mainstream publishing folk weren't as enthusiastic.
To that we say Pffffttt.
Clearly these sticks in the mud don't know what they're missing. Is this not a Hot Man???
fans self Of course it is.
And his band mates are equally hot. In their younger more visual days they were very hot together posing in all those suggestive "fanservice" ways both onstage and off.
AND (here's the best part) Anne and I have been "up close and personal" with two of them. Yes, it was very briefly but we have gazed into the gorgeous eyes of Ryuhei & Jun, we have seen Kiyoshi's shy smile.
We will gladly continue to stroll through our little slice of fangirl heaven and let our imaginations and countless mental images take us where they lead.
Just don't anyone let Kyo know that he's the inspiration behind Gobei the icky little flesheater.
CONTEST!
Anyone who posts a comment between now and next Thursday 3/29/07 will be entered in a drawing to win one of our favorite stories WINTER SONG
With their music topping the charts worldwide, the band mates of Japanese rock band ChildsPrey have everything they’ve ever wanted---international success, millions of fans, money, fame. But for guitarists Jun Doi and Koji Takasoto, the nights this winter are long and empty.
Since the band's early wild days full of passionate sex and hard music, Koji has seen Jun as more than a mere friend. Worried that admitting his feelings would jeopardize this relationship and their success, Koji keeps his long-standing love a secret. Meanwhile, Jun's hopes for happiness in the New Year crumble. Following the break up of his marriage and an injury to his hand that could put his career on hold, he needs Koji’s friendship more than ever before.
Whisking his friend away for the holiday, Koji puts everything on the line. Both men have had their share of hurt and loneliness, but if Koji can find the courage to say what's in his heart, can they find the love they've been longing for?
The chemistry between Koji and Jun in Winter Song had me continuously turning the page to see what would happen next. The two men are incredible friends and their characters are so well developed that I really sensed the depths of their friendship.
~Joyfully Reviewed
Till next week (when we have a surprise)…Rock on!
To this we say simply WTF?!?
Our super publishers, reviewers and readers don't have a problem connecting with the universal human emotions we tap into when writing so we were totally dumbfounded (though not really surprised) to find that the more mainstream publishing folk weren't as enthusiastic.
To that we say Pffffttt.
Clearly these sticks in the mud don't know what they're missing. Is this not a Hot Man???
fans self Of course it is.
And his band mates are equally hot. In their younger more visual days they were very hot together posing in all those suggestive "fanservice" ways both onstage and off.
AND (here's the best part) Anne and I have been "up close and personal" with two of them. Yes, it was very briefly but we have gazed into the gorgeous eyes of Ryuhei & Jun, we have seen Kiyoshi's shy smile.
We will gladly continue to stroll through our little slice of fangirl heaven and let our imaginations and countless mental images take us where they lead.
Just don't anyone let Kyo know that he's the inspiration behind Gobei the icky little flesheater.
CONTEST!
Anyone who posts a comment between now and next Thursday 3/29/07 will be entered in a drawing to win one of our favorite stories WINTER SONG
With their music topping the charts worldwide, the band mates of Japanese rock band ChildsPrey have everything they’ve ever wanted---international success, millions of fans, money, fame. But for guitarists Jun Doi and Koji Takasoto, the nights this winter are long and empty.
Since the band's early wild days full of passionate sex and hard music, Koji has seen Jun as more than a mere friend. Worried that admitting his feelings would jeopardize this relationship and their success, Koji keeps his long-standing love a secret. Meanwhile, Jun's hopes for happiness in the New Year crumble. Following the break up of his marriage and an injury to his hand that could put his career on hold, he needs Koji’s friendship more than ever before.
Whisking his friend away for the holiday, Koji puts everything on the line. Both men have had their share of hurt and loneliness, but if Koji can find the courage to say what's in his heart, can they find the love they've been longing for?
* * * *
The chemistry between Koji and Jun in Winter Song had me continuously turning the page to see what would happen next. The two men are incredible friends and their characters are so well developed that I really sensed the depths of their friendship.
~Joyfully Reviewed
Till next week (when we have a surprise)…Rock on!
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Thursday
Thursday. My day to post. I think I'll follow in the footsteps of others and post an excerpt. I have three novellas from Samhain, and together they make up Josh and Kir's story. This excerpt is from Monster, the first book, and gives you the set-up for the series. But if you comment, you can choose to win Monster, Zombie or Minder.
Next week I think I'll talk about Swordspoint, the book that started me down the road to m/m love. (I've even named a character after Alec, though he's nothing the same. Has anyone else read Swordspoint by Ellen Kushner? (Another big influence was Lois McMaster Bujold's A Civil Campaign, because I wanted Byerly and Ivan to get together. I doubt I was the only one.)
----------------------
Josh handed over the cheap kit and Kir took it with a jerk.
“Thanks,” he mumbled.
“You can keep it. Do you have your own pump?” Josh knew he didn’t.
“No. But if you’re in a hurry…”
Josh leaned against the tree. “I’m not.” He kept his smile on low beam. “I can wait. You can use mine.”
Kir held his gaze for a moment, going wide-eyed.
Oh, baby, don’t tell me you’re easy. This was the monster the agency had hunted for over a year?
“Thanks,” Kir repeated. A man of few words. A monster of few words, Josh reminded himself. It was all well and good to get into his role here but he shouldn’t forget that Kir was a twenty-two year old psychotic Minder.
Kir crouched down and went to work while Josh eyed him. Just as well the boy wore loose clothing. Josh didn’t need that distraction right now. Dark eyes and faux naiveté were bad enough. Not that Josh pursued youth or inexperience but he had an unrewarding protective streak that was easily aroused.
Rather than openly admire the boy’s body, he watched the families walk, bike and skate past on the all-purpose asphalt path. Kir came here every day and Josh had chosen to catch him on Sunday when the crowd could explain his own presence and make him less of a perceived threat.
A couple of minutes later Kir rose with a sheepish expression. “I never get flats. I don’t know what happened today.”
“Glass, maybe.”
He frowned. “I don’t think so. I didn’t see any.”
“Would you like to use the pump?” Josh brandished his.
“Thanks.”
“You sure are polite. That’s the fourth time you’ve thanked me.”
Kir ducked his head endearingly and Josh wondered if he were being played. Fine, let the boy think he was in control and Josh was charmed by his artless act. Josh passed the pump and made finger contact.
Shivering, Kir pulled away. Psis often didn’t like to be touched, but the boy’s expression conveyed surprise, not recoil. He crouched down quickly, though not before Josh observed a flush.
This is like taking candy from a baby. “I hardly ever use this park, though I live near by.”
Kir glanced at him. “I come here all the time. When it’s cooler, I run.”
“I’m not surprised. You have runner’s legs.”
Instead of acknowledging the compliment, Kir concentrated on attaching the pump to the tire.
“Actually, I’m glad I stopped,” continued Josh. “The sun is getting to me. I’m heading home for a drink soon.”
Kir’s arm worked the pump furiously and Josh waited, giving the boy time to absorb what was happening. When he was done, Kir rose and wiped his face with the sleeve of his T-shirt.
“I hope you have lots of water,” said Josh.
“Uh, some.” Kir stood on the balls of his feet, ready to spring. Under normal circumstances, Josh would never move on someone so skittish.
“Come back to my place and hydrate yourself.” Josh kept his words light.
Kir stared, as if he were a deer caught in headlights, and Josh was annoyed that a part of him felt bad. Either the monster was a very good actor, or he really couldn’t decide whether or not to accept the invitation.
“Can I have my pump?” Josh held out his hand.
“Oh. Yeah.”
This time Josh didn’t force the finger contact. He just took the pump and attached it to his bike. Kir watched as Josh slung a leg over the bicycle’s bar. “Coming?” he asked, as if it were no big deal.
Kir blinked. “Okay.”
“Follow me.” Josh set off and didn’t look back.
As he sped up, he wondered if he’d played it too cool. For a real hookup, he would have pushed harder to make Kir know he was wanted. But in this situation, the less Josh appeared to care, the better. The boy had good reason to be suspicious. The agency had been hunting him for a year now.
Next week I think I'll talk about Swordspoint, the book that started me down the road to m/m love. (I've even named a character after Alec, though he's nothing the same. Has anyone else read Swordspoint by Ellen Kushner? (Another big influence was Lois McMaster Bujold's A Civil Campaign, because I wanted Byerly and Ivan to get together. I doubt I was the only one.)
----------------------
Josh handed over the cheap kit and Kir took it with a jerk.
“Thanks,” he mumbled.
“You can keep it. Do you have your own pump?” Josh knew he didn’t.
“No. But if you’re in a hurry…”
Josh leaned against the tree. “I’m not.” He kept his smile on low beam. “I can wait. You can use mine.”
Kir held his gaze for a moment, going wide-eyed.
Oh, baby, don’t tell me you’re easy. This was the monster the agency had hunted for over a year?
“Thanks,” Kir repeated. A man of few words. A monster of few words, Josh reminded himself. It was all well and good to get into his role here but he shouldn’t forget that Kir was a twenty-two year old psychotic Minder.
Kir crouched down and went to work while Josh eyed him. Just as well the boy wore loose clothing. Josh didn’t need that distraction right now. Dark eyes and faux naiveté were bad enough. Not that Josh pursued youth or inexperience but he had an unrewarding protective streak that was easily aroused.
Rather than openly admire the boy’s body, he watched the families walk, bike and skate past on the all-purpose asphalt path. Kir came here every day and Josh had chosen to catch him on Sunday when the crowd could explain his own presence and make him less of a perceived threat.
A couple of minutes later Kir rose with a sheepish expression. “I never get flats. I don’t know what happened today.”
“Glass, maybe.”
He frowned. “I don’t think so. I didn’t see any.”
“Would you like to use the pump?” Josh brandished his.
“Thanks.”
“You sure are polite. That’s the fourth time you’ve thanked me.”
Kir ducked his head endearingly and Josh wondered if he were being played. Fine, let the boy think he was in control and Josh was charmed by his artless act. Josh passed the pump and made finger contact.
Shivering, Kir pulled away. Psis often didn’t like to be touched, but the boy’s expression conveyed surprise, not recoil. He crouched down quickly, though not before Josh observed a flush.
This is like taking candy from a baby. “I hardly ever use this park, though I live near by.”
Kir glanced at him. “I come here all the time. When it’s cooler, I run.”
“I’m not surprised. You have runner’s legs.”
Instead of acknowledging the compliment, Kir concentrated on attaching the pump to the tire.
“Actually, I’m glad I stopped,” continued Josh. “The sun is getting to me. I’m heading home for a drink soon.”
Kir’s arm worked the pump furiously and Josh waited, giving the boy time to absorb what was happening. When he was done, Kir rose and wiped his face with the sleeve of his T-shirt.
“I hope you have lots of water,” said Josh.
“Uh, some.” Kir stood on the balls of his feet, ready to spring. Under normal circumstances, Josh would never move on someone so skittish.
“Come back to my place and hydrate yourself.” Josh kept his words light.
Kir stared, as if he were a deer caught in headlights, and Josh was annoyed that a part of him felt bad. Either the monster was a very good actor, or he really couldn’t decide whether or not to accept the invitation.
“Can I have my pump?” Josh held out his hand.
“Oh. Yeah.”
This time Josh didn’t force the finger contact. He just took the pump and attached it to his bike. Kir watched as Josh slung a leg over the bicycle’s bar. “Coming?” he asked, as if it were no big deal.
Kir blinked. “Okay.”
“Follow me.” Josh set off and didn’t look back.
As he sped up, he wondered if he’d played it too cool. For a real hookup, he would have pushed harder to make Kir know he was wanted. But in this situation, the less Josh appeared to care, the better. The boy had good reason to be suspicious. The agency had been hunting him for a year now.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
My Turn
Is it my turn? Hello :) I'm Annmarie McKenna. I am so excited to be a part of this group of fantastic m/m writers! Although I do feel a bit of a fraud, LOL ;) Don't be fooled by that Blackmailed cover to the right, there is no m/m interaction. My very first m/m/f menage coming out this July. Friday the 13th! Fantasmagorical is a fun short story being released as part of Samhain's Midsummer Night's Steam series. I'm also currently working on a m/m about a Federal Judge. I thought I'd post the blurb for Fantasmagorical today and run a contest. Anyone who posts a comment today through Sunday night will be entered to win either a download of one of my books or a $5 GC to My Bookstore and More. Good Luck and thanks for supporting Slash and Burn.
Blurb:
Welcome to Fantasm Island! Leave your inhibitions at the door and let your fantasies soar.
That’s what the brochure said anyway. A week long fling with a stranger. Where’s the harm in that? Take a compatibility quiz and a slew of other health tests, sign a strict privacy agreement and give license to any sexual fantasy you’ve ever had. Evan Knight couldn’t wait.
Gabe and Lance have been searching for their perfect third for what seems like forever. One look at the woman he and his best friend and lover Lance have chosen to claim during her time on the island, and Gabe thinks they may have finally found her.
But what if Evan isn’t interested in more than the fling she signed up for? Or worse, what if she can’t handle two men who are into each other too? Gabe and Lance have one week to convince Evan that the three of them belong together…and they’ll use every bit of seduction in their arsenal to make sure when the fantasy ends, their reality together will only just be beginning.
Warning, this title contains the following: explicit fantasmagorical sex, graphic language, ménage a trois, and hot nekkid man-love.
Blurb:
Welcome to Fantasm Island! Leave your inhibitions at the door and let your fantasies soar.
That’s what the brochure said anyway. A week long fling with a stranger. Where’s the harm in that? Take a compatibility quiz and a slew of other health tests, sign a strict privacy agreement and give license to any sexual fantasy you’ve ever had. Evan Knight couldn’t wait.
Gabe and Lance have been searching for their perfect third for what seems like forever. One look at the woman he and his best friend and lover Lance have chosen to claim during her time on the island, and Gabe thinks they may have finally found her.
But what if Evan isn’t interested in more than the fling she signed up for? Or worse, what if she can’t handle two men who are into each other too? Gabe and Lance have one week to convince Evan that the three of them belong together…and they’ll use every bit of seduction in their arsenal to make sure when the fantasy ends, their reality together will only just be beginning.
Warning, this title contains the following: explicit fantasmagorical sex, graphic language, ménage a trois, and hot nekkid man-love.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Yes, technically it is evening...
...but I am unable to resist posting a few favorite lyrics here:I'm looking at myself reflections of my mind, It's just the kind of day to leave myself behind. So gently swaying through the fairyland of love, If you'll just come with me you'll see the beauty of...Tuesday afternoon.
I don't know why I selected Tuesday to be my posting day here. Maybe because it's not Monday, because the beginning of the week is never good for me to commit to things. When a week begins I've always come off an exhausting weekend of taking care of the family and staying up late to catch up on projects. Fridays are right out as well, since the last thing I want to think about then is work. Tuesday strikes a good balance with me, so Tuesday is when I'll be here.
Right now I'm taking a break from revisions on The Healing, my M/M vamp work due from Phaze this summer. The Healing had been originally with Venus Press but I pulled it early this year. Actually, Phaze had offered a contract on it when I first shopped it, but I went with Venus, I suppose, to test the eBook waters. You see some authors have something with everybody, while I find myself sticking with one house (save for the occasional side trip). What can I say, though? I like Phaze. They are good to me, and I think they are going to be big one day. I hope I can contribute to that.
Anyway, my plans with The Healing are to go more in depth with the story. The original version seemed lacking to me, there was more to tell. I plan to do my best in telling it. Another plus is a new cover. While I have admired the artwork of Venus Press, I was never crazy about the cover I received. I don't blame the artist, she was limited with what she could do. For some reason, there was a policy against two-man shots. While the finished product above isn't heaving man-titty, I like it. I think it portrays the gentle nature of the story, the gradual passion that eventually consumes Dan and Julian.
Being Tuesday, I'm hooked on American Idol, though it's not been a good season for music. This 60s night is proving somewhat ghastly. It's an off-key train wreck, an assault to my ears. Maybe I'm a closet masochist at heart?
Monday, March 19, 2007
A Contest & A Sneak Peak Excerpt
Hi all. My name is Amanda Young and I'm thrilled to be here, another member of Slash & Burn. In honor of my very first post, I'd like to do two things.
The first is a contest. Anyone who leaves a comment on today's blog post by between now and Sunday, March 25th will be entered to win a free book. The winner can choose between either of my March releases, Something More or Missing In Action , both of which have plenty of hot, yummy manlove in them. I'll announce the winner here on Monday, March 26th. Simple as that.
The second, is give you all something yummy to read. The following excerpt is from my current work in progress, Secrets & Lies. Enjoy!
Unedited Excerpt
Copyright 2007 Amanda Young
Connor Drake leaned against the long mahogany bar and took a sip from the long neck beer bottle he held between his thumb and forefinger. His gaze wandered restlessly over the crowded dance floor, dozens on sweaty men in various stages of undress bumping and grinding to the disco music pulsing out of the speakers overhead. The scene should’ve had some effect on him, all those sweaty men writhing against one another, but it left him cold. He took another long pull from his drink and moved on to the small clusters of men socializing here and there along the fringes of the dance floor and in the wide open threshold leading into lounge on the other side of the building, his gaze roaming for some unknown…something that he refused to define.
In the short half an hour he’d been inside Angel’s Grotto, Connor had already been cruised by several men, their eyes meeting his for just the right duration, their come hither smiles alluring him to follow them into the back room, where men gathered to do anything their fickle hearts desired. Unfortunately, none of those men struck a chord within him. His dick lay inside the snug black jeans he’d squeezed into earlier in the evening, flaccid and unaffected by their come-ons.
He was on the prowl for someone in specific. A man he already knew he couldn’t have. Regrettably, his body wouldn’t listen to reason and refused to get hard for anyone else. Through trial and error over the last year, he’d come to realize that whoever he fucked needed to bear more than a passing resemblance to the man he yearned for, or things just wouldn’t work. The situation was as annoying as it was hopeless. He was smart enough to realize he searched for a replacement, but couldn’t stop himself from acting on the impulse. Not tonight or any of the other nights when he’d broken down and given in to the urge to come here, his sexual demons riding him hard for relief. It never did. No matter how pathetic he felt afterward.
Connor swallowed down the foamy bottom from the beer bottle and turned to order another. As he did, a man at the end of the counter caught his eye in the mirror behind the bar. The man had the right look about him, dark hair and eyes, a pale complexion. He was a little too tall, maybe an inch or so higher than Connor’s own six foot. A heavily muscled upper torso strained the cotton shirt fabric of the man’s t-shirt. He was a little bigger than Connor usually went for and most likely a top, but that was okay. He was versatile and didn’t mind playing the bottom on occasion.
Setting his empty bottle on the counter, he turned toward the man, a small smile tilting his lips. When the man smiled back, Connor nodded and tilted his head slightly toward the direction of the back room. The guy’s smile widened in acceptance of Connors silent offer to play. He set his drink down and made a beeline for the backroom. Connor followed, weaving his way through the crowd and trying to keep an eye on his conquest, lest he lose him in the mob of people.
Connor pushed aside the curtain of chains separating the illustrious backroom from the main floor and stepped into the dimly lit, cement-hewn corridor most of the patrons referred to as the dungeon. Tiny booths, complete with large viewing windows from waist height up and lined with crimson velveteen drapes, ran down both sides of the hall. There were nicer, more private rooms on the second floor, but this was where the real action took place. Where men paired off in groups of two or more and indulged in everything from the simplest of quickie blow jobs to fisting and beyond. The deeper you walked through the dark corridor, the more hedonistic the pleasures became.
The stout tang of semen and sweat hung in the air, a hint of something almost coppery underlying the stronger scents. The wet slap of flesh and hoarse male groans echoed through the passage.
Connor’s dick twitched in anticipation of what was to come and he took a step deeper inside, his eyesight gradually adjusting to the change in light. Having lost sight of his conquest once the man entered the passageway, Connor began to search for him.
Quick glimpses into the first two, six-by-nine rooms proved fruitless, an unknown couple in different stages of vanilla fucking inside each. He ducked his head into the third and—though the man he sought was nowhere in sight—stopped for a moment to watch the threesome inside. Morbid curiosity kept his feet glued to the floor as two large bruisers fucked a slighter built, blond man. The twink hung suspended in a sling connected to the exposed beams in the ceiling, strips of black leather tethered by silver metal rings crisscrossing his pale body and bracketing his thighs. A blood red ball gag spread his lips wide, his eyes scrunched tight in pleasure, pain, or a little of both.
More interesting than the tools of their trade, or even each man’s individual appeal, was the fact that the blond was lifted at the perfect height between their heavily muscled bodies, his hips at the perfect angle to accept both of his partner’s sizeable pricks inside his ass at once. Connor studied the men’s rhythm as they plowed in and out, the steady cadence of back and forth growing faster, rougher with every ragged inhalation.
To his surprise, blood rushed south to his groin and made his cock swell, his balls pulling tight as they lifted and snuggled up to the base of his shaft. The thought of being in the middle made his hole twinge in sympathy, but his cock was all for it. What would it be like to squeeze into a hot, tight hole and have his cock caressed by a throbbing cock in additional to the snug inner walls? His dick jerked inside his Levis with the intense desire to find out.
Movement at the corner of his peripheral vision caught Connor’s eye. He craned his neck around and caught sight of a dark head disappearing into a room a little farther down the hall. His guy?
He tore himself away from the trio and went in pursuit of his entertainment for the evening. Watching was fun, but it only went so far. Connor rubbed the heel of his hand over the stiff outline of his cock through denim. His dick ached, in need of a little TLC as the zipper bit into his skin. If he didn’t get some relief soon he was going to have permanent track marks up his shaft. He shuddered. If he wanted to decorate his prick, he’d wear a cock ring or get a piercing. Scars didn’t bear thinking on.
Connor stopped just outside of the stall he’d seen the guy slip into. With the curtain drawn closed, he wasn’t able to see inside. He pulled back the curtain. His gaze landed on his bedsport, who stood across the room with his back to the side wall. His thighs were spread a shoulders width apart, the man’s fist pumped up and down the flushed length of his cock, which jutting from a wreath of tight black curls.
Connor moved forward, letting the curtain fall shut behind him. His mouth began to water as he advanced, undressing as he walked. He yanked his t-shirt over his head and let it drop to the floor, his chest heaving under the strain of each breath, and worked open the fastening of his jeans. His gaze locked with the brunettes as he slid the zipper down, the loose denim pooling around his hips while he toed off his shoes.
His gaze dropped, landing on the brunette’s thick uncut cock, long and beautiful with a deep rose, flared crown that appeared on every backstroke. He watched the man stroke himself for a moment, his hand dropping to his own groin and rubbing. The brunette moaned and let go of his prick. He reached down and gave his low-hanging balls a sharp tug.
Man must’ve been close. Connor grinned and finished shoving his jeans down and off. He stepped out of them and left them lying in a crumpled heap upon the floor, too anxious to touch and taste the banquet of ivory skin in front of him to bother with stopping to pick them up.
He reached out and glided his fingers over one of the man’s pecs and the stiff peak of one puckered brown nipple. He watched it tighten, the flesh crinkling right up, and couldn’t resist leaning in to flick his tongue over the tiny bud.
The man’s back arched, pushing his chest out, and he moaned. “Fuck. So hot. Want you.”
“Mm hmm.” Connor sucked hard and pulled back, gratified to see the creased flesh flushed a darker shade of brown and glistening with his saliva. “How?” He bent to tend to the other nipple, wanting to see them both rosy and well-loved.
Strong hands gripped Connor by the shoulders and flipped him around. He reached out with both hands, palms landing on the smooth curtain and thick Plexiglas behind it. His hands fisted in the soft curtain, parting it in the middle between the panes and leaned his cheek against the cool glass as a hot, hard male body pressed him flush against it. The glass felt icy against his overheated skin, making him shiver. He gasped, goose bumps popping up on his chest and arms.
Hot breath puffed over the side of his neck, followed by the flat of a moist tongue licking at his skin. The sensuous touch continued up, stopping beneath the hollow of his ear. Sharp teeth nipped at the lobe. “Gonna fuck you so hard. Right through the damn glass.”
An arm wrapped around Connor’s waist, a hand grabbing his dick and pumping it in rough, fast strokes. It clamped down on the crown and squeezed, milking pre-come from the tip.
Connor moaned, his gaze straight ahead on the empty corridor outside, and thrust his ass back at the man behind him. “Do it. Fuck me.”
The hand on his cock let go. The sweltering heat against his back disappeared, cool air splashing over his damp, overheated flesh. Foil crinkled and the blunt end of a latex-covered dick slide through the crease of his ass, nudging his hole. Connor sucked in a breath and braced himself. It’d been too long since the last time he’d bottomed. With no prep, and no more lube than what came on a rubber, this was going to hurt. He wasn’t fool enough to think otherwise.
A hand tightened around one of his hips, holding him steady as the pressure increased. He bore down, gritting his teeth to keep from calling out, and felt the thick crown pop through his anus. Connor’s hole spasmed and burned around the invader, stretching to accommodate the monster cock being ruthlessly forced inside him.
His mind shut down and his libido took over, pushing his hips backward. He spread his thighs wider, as his body opened to the man pumping away inside him. Connor grunted, his head falling forward, as the bite of pain intensified his pleasure and took away his ability to think, made him soar.
In that moment, Connor could almost forget why he kept coming back to Angel’s Grotto. That what was supposed to be a fun lark had quickly snowballed into something much more disturbing: an obsession of epic proportions.
Visiting the club had been his and Darren’s, his now ex-boyfriend, last ditch attempt to spice things up in their stale relationship. Admission into Angel’s Grotto, a little known sex club outside of Pittsburgh’s city limits, required recurring clean bills of health, in addition to the huge monthly membership fee. Darren’s insistence that the club was exactly what they need to reignite their spark, more than anything, pushed into coughing up the cash and test results, though he felt a tad wary about the club’s shady reputation. At the time, his main concern had been holding onto his lover.
The age gap that had seemed so slight when they first got together, had grown into a wide-assed chasm between them. Ten years didn’t seem like much, but it was obvious in the way his gaze wondered when they went out that Darren grew listless with monogamy. At thirty-two, Connor couldn’t really blame him. He’d already gone out and done the single scene for years before they’d met. Glutted himself on anonymous sex until he sick of it, and all he wanted was to find someone he could settle down with and love. He’d thought he’d found that in Darren. If only he’d known…
The man behind him growled, pulling Connor out of his funk and back to the here and now. The grip on his waist tightened and the cock inside him shifted, glancing off his prostate. Connor moaned and threw his hips back harder against the man fucking him, impaling himself until he felt the itchy scratch of crinkly pubic hair against the crease of his ass. The tight ring of his anus stretched wide, burning around the base of his lover’s cock.
The man pulled back and thrust deep, pushing Connor forward, his face banging against the Plexiglas. “Oh, fuck yeah. You like it rough, huh? I can give it to you rough as you want, Babe.”
Connor grunted and pushed back. “Yes. Harder. Fuck me.” He didn’t want to think. He just wanted to feel. Escape the hopelessness of ever finding someone he could love and be loved by in return.
His prick bobbed, slapping his lower abs with every hard, deep thrust, and gifting his skin with thick smears of pre-come. The drive to come overruled thought. Connor reached down and grabbed hold of his dick, pumping in time with the fast lunges into his ass.
The force behind his partner’s thrusts grew choppy and out of tempo, pushing into him with short, snappy jabs. Connor felt the dick inside him swell and pulse, expanding as the man neared orgasm. He tugged his cock harder, squeezing the sensitive crown on every upstroke.
He wanted to come. Now. Before the man inside him got off and left him behind. Finishing himself off with his hand was always an option (he certainly used that method enough between visits here), but it wasn’t what Connor wanted and he wasn’t up to approaching anyone else tonight.
The brunette groaned, the sound vibrating down his body and straight into Connor. “Oh, hell yeah. Close, man. Hurry up. I’m gonna…” His pelvis rocked and pulled back scant inches, before shoving back into Connor. His hips circled and his cock danced, pounding into Connor’s prostate.
Connor moaned and squeezed his eyes shut, conjuring up the one picture guaranteed to get him off in a pinch. Dark hair, midnight blue eyes, a pair of full pink lips that looked as if they could Hoover chrome off a bumper. On the silver screen of his eyelids, Connor’s dream man dropped to his knees and licked his lips, making them glisten with promise.
The cock in Connor’s ass pushed deep, hitting his prostate. Tension coiled at the base of his dick and released, white hot sparks pulsing up his shaft. His balls knotted up tight, their sac pulling into his body and contracting. His dick pulsed and jerked in his fist, orgasm exploding inside him. Hot ribbons of spunk stuttered out of him, spewing over his fist and onto the floor.
Connor’s asshole clamped down tight on the prick inside him and milked his partner to climax. The man grunted and cried out, his hips making unsteady little pumps as he filled the condom. After a heartbeat, he pulled his cock out of Connor roughly and smacked him on the ass. “Thanks. I needed that.”
Connor winced from the man’s abrupt departure as much as from the sharp sting to his left ass-cheek. He lifted his head, ready to return the sentiment, and felt the words he’d been about to say shrivel up and die inside his windpipe.
On the other side of the glass, one lean hip propped against the wall, stood Teague Johnson. Their gazes locked. Connor shivered, every inch of his body shooting to attention under Teague’s brooding stare.
The first is a contest. Anyone who leaves a comment on today's blog post by between now and Sunday, March 25th will be entered to win a free book. The winner can choose between either of my March releases, Something More or Missing In Action , both of which have plenty of hot, yummy manlove in them. I'll announce the winner here on Monday, March 26th. Simple as that.
The second, is give you all something yummy to read. The following excerpt is from my current work in progress, Secrets & Lies. Enjoy!
Unedited Excerpt
Copyright 2007 Amanda Young
Connor Drake leaned against the long mahogany bar and took a sip from the long neck beer bottle he held between his thumb and forefinger. His gaze wandered restlessly over the crowded dance floor, dozens on sweaty men in various stages of undress bumping and grinding to the disco music pulsing out of the speakers overhead. The scene should’ve had some effect on him, all those sweaty men writhing against one another, but it left him cold. He took another long pull from his drink and moved on to the small clusters of men socializing here and there along the fringes of the dance floor and in the wide open threshold leading into lounge on the other side of the building, his gaze roaming for some unknown…something that he refused to define.
In the short half an hour he’d been inside Angel’s Grotto, Connor had already been cruised by several men, their eyes meeting his for just the right duration, their come hither smiles alluring him to follow them into the back room, where men gathered to do anything their fickle hearts desired. Unfortunately, none of those men struck a chord within him. His dick lay inside the snug black jeans he’d squeezed into earlier in the evening, flaccid and unaffected by their come-ons.
He was on the prowl for someone in specific. A man he already knew he couldn’t have. Regrettably, his body wouldn’t listen to reason and refused to get hard for anyone else. Through trial and error over the last year, he’d come to realize that whoever he fucked needed to bear more than a passing resemblance to the man he yearned for, or things just wouldn’t work. The situation was as annoying as it was hopeless. He was smart enough to realize he searched for a replacement, but couldn’t stop himself from acting on the impulse. Not tonight or any of the other nights when he’d broken down and given in to the urge to come here, his sexual demons riding him hard for relief. It never did. No matter how pathetic he felt afterward.
Connor swallowed down the foamy bottom from the beer bottle and turned to order another. As he did, a man at the end of the counter caught his eye in the mirror behind the bar. The man had the right look about him, dark hair and eyes, a pale complexion. He was a little too tall, maybe an inch or so higher than Connor’s own six foot. A heavily muscled upper torso strained the cotton shirt fabric of the man’s t-shirt. He was a little bigger than Connor usually went for and most likely a top, but that was okay. He was versatile and didn’t mind playing the bottom on occasion.
Setting his empty bottle on the counter, he turned toward the man, a small smile tilting his lips. When the man smiled back, Connor nodded and tilted his head slightly toward the direction of the back room. The guy’s smile widened in acceptance of Connors silent offer to play. He set his drink down and made a beeline for the backroom. Connor followed, weaving his way through the crowd and trying to keep an eye on his conquest, lest he lose him in the mob of people.
Connor pushed aside the curtain of chains separating the illustrious backroom from the main floor and stepped into the dimly lit, cement-hewn corridor most of the patrons referred to as the dungeon. Tiny booths, complete with large viewing windows from waist height up and lined with crimson velveteen drapes, ran down both sides of the hall. There were nicer, more private rooms on the second floor, but this was where the real action took place. Where men paired off in groups of two or more and indulged in everything from the simplest of quickie blow jobs to fisting and beyond. The deeper you walked through the dark corridor, the more hedonistic the pleasures became.
The stout tang of semen and sweat hung in the air, a hint of something almost coppery underlying the stronger scents. The wet slap of flesh and hoarse male groans echoed through the passage.
Connor’s dick twitched in anticipation of what was to come and he took a step deeper inside, his eyesight gradually adjusting to the change in light. Having lost sight of his conquest once the man entered the passageway, Connor began to search for him.
Quick glimpses into the first two, six-by-nine rooms proved fruitless, an unknown couple in different stages of vanilla fucking inside each. He ducked his head into the third and—though the man he sought was nowhere in sight—stopped for a moment to watch the threesome inside. Morbid curiosity kept his feet glued to the floor as two large bruisers fucked a slighter built, blond man. The twink hung suspended in a sling connected to the exposed beams in the ceiling, strips of black leather tethered by silver metal rings crisscrossing his pale body and bracketing his thighs. A blood red ball gag spread his lips wide, his eyes scrunched tight in pleasure, pain, or a little of both.
More interesting than the tools of their trade, or even each man’s individual appeal, was the fact that the blond was lifted at the perfect height between their heavily muscled bodies, his hips at the perfect angle to accept both of his partner’s sizeable pricks inside his ass at once. Connor studied the men’s rhythm as they plowed in and out, the steady cadence of back and forth growing faster, rougher with every ragged inhalation.
To his surprise, blood rushed south to his groin and made his cock swell, his balls pulling tight as they lifted and snuggled up to the base of his shaft. The thought of being in the middle made his hole twinge in sympathy, but his cock was all for it. What would it be like to squeeze into a hot, tight hole and have his cock caressed by a throbbing cock in additional to the snug inner walls? His dick jerked inside his Levis with the intense desire to find out.
Movement at the corner of his peripheral vision caught Connor’s eye. He craned his neck around and caught sight of a dark head disappearing into a room a little farther down the hall. His guy?
He tore himself away from the trio and went in pursuit of his entertainment for the evening. Watching was fun, but it only went so far. Connor rubbed the heel of his hand over the stiff outline of his cock through denim. His dick ached, in need of a little TLC as the zipper bit into his skin. If he didn’t get some relief soon he was going to have permanent track marks up his shaft. He shuddered. If he wanted to decorate his prick, he’d wear a cock ring or get a piercing. Scars didn’t bear thinking on.
Connor stopped just outside of the stall he’d seen the guy slip into. With the curtain drawn closed, he wasn’t able to see inside. He pulled back the curtain. His gaze landed on his bedsport, who stood across the room with his back to the side wall. His thighs were spread a shoulders width apart, the man’s fist pumped up and down the flushed length of his cock, which jutting from a wreath of tight black curls.
Connor moved forward, letting the curtain fall shut behind him. His mouth began to water as he advanced, undressing as he walked. He yanked his t-shirt over his head and let it drop to the floor, his chest heaving under the strain of each breath, and worked open the fastening of his jeans. His gaze locked with the brunettes as he slid the zipper down, the loose denim pooling around his hips while he toed off his shoes.
His gaze dropped, landing on the brunette’s thick uncut cock, long and beautiful with a deep rose, flared crown that appeared on every backstroke. He watched the man stroke himself for a moment, his hand dropping to his own groin and rubbing. The brunette moaned and let go of his prick. He reached down and gave his low-hanging balls a sharp tug.
Man must’ve been close. Connor grinned and finished shoving his jeans down and off. He stepped out of them and left them lying in a crumpled heap upon the floor, too anxious to touch and taste the banquet of ivory skin in front of him to bother with stopping to pick them up.
He reached out and glided his fingers over one of the man’s pecs and the stiff peak of one puckered brown nipple. He watched it tighten, the flesh crinkling right up, and couldn’t resist leaning in to flick his tongue over the tiny bud.
The man’s back arched, pushing his chest out, and he moaned. “Fuck. So hot. Want you.”
“Mm hmm.” Connor sucked hard and pulled back, gratified to see the creased flesh flushed a darker shade of brown and glistening with his saliva. “How?” He bent to tend to the other nipple, wanting to see them both rosy and well-loved.
Strong hands gripped Connor by the shoulders and flipped him around. He reached out with both hands, palms landing on the smooth curtain and thick Plexiglas behind it. His hands fisted in the soft curtain, parting it in the middle between the panes and leaned his cheek against the cool glass as a hot, hard male body pressed him flush against it. The glass felt icy against his overheated skin, making him shiver. He gasped, goose bumps popping up on his chest and arms.
Hot breath puffed over the side of his neck, followed by the flat of a moist tongue licking at his skin. The sensuous touch continued up, stopping beneath the hollow of his ear. Sharp teeth nipped at the lobe. “Gonna fuck you so hard. Right through the damn glass.”
An arm wrapped around Connor’s waist, a hand grabbing his dick and pumping it in rough, fast strokes. It clamped down on the crown and squeezed, milking pre-come from the tip.
Connor moaned, his gaze straight ahead on the empty corridor outside, and thrust his ass back at the man behind him. “Do it. Fuck me.”
The hand on his cock let go. The sweltering heat against his back disappeared, cool air splashing over his damp, overheated flesh. Foil crinkled and the blunt end of a latex-covered dick slide through the crease of his ass, nudging his hole. Connor sucked in a breath and braced himself. It’d been too long since the last time he’d bottomed. With no prep, and no more lube than what came on a rubber, this was going to hurt. He wasn’t fool enough to think otherwise.
A hand tightened around one of his hips, holding him steady as the pressure increased. He bore down, gritting his teeth to keep from calling out, and felt the thick crown pop through his anus. Connor’s hole spasmed and burned around the invader, stretching to accommodate the monster cock being ruthlessly forced inside him.
His mind shut down and his libido took over, pushing his hips backward. He spread his thighs wider, as his body opened to the man pumping away inside him. Connor grunted, his head falling forward, as the bite of pain intensified his pleasure and took away his ability to think, made him soar.
In that moment, Connor could almost forget why he kept coming back to Angel’s Grotto. That what was supposed to be a fun lark had quickly snowballed into something much more disturbing: an obsession of epic proportions.
Visiting the club had been his and Darren’s, his now ex-boyfriend, last ditch attempt to spice things up in their stale relationship. Admission into Angel’s Grotto, a little known sex club outside of Pittsburgh’s city limits, required recurring clean bills of health, in addition to the huge monthly membership fee. Darren’s insistence that the club was exactly what they need to reignite their spark, more than anything, pushed into coughing up the cash and test results, though he felt a tad wary about the club’s shady reputation. At the time, his main concern had been holding onto his lover.
The age gap that had seemed so slight when they first got together, had grown into a wide-assed chasm between them. Ten years didn’t seem like much, but it was obvious in the way his gaze wondered when they went out that Darren grew listless with monogamy. At thirty-two, Connor couldn’t really blame him. He’d already gone out and done the single scene for years before they’d met. Glutted himself on anonymous sex until he sick of it, and all he wanted was to find someone he could settle down with and love. He’d thought he’d found that in Darren. If only he’d known…
The man behind him growled, pulling Connor out of his funk and back to the here and now. The grip on his waist tightened and the cock inside him shifted, glancing off his prostate. Connor moaned and threw his hips back harder against the man fucking him, impaling himself until he felt the itchy scratch of crinkly pubic hair against the crease of his ass. The tight ring of his anus stretched wide, burning around the base of his lover’s cock.
The man pulled back and thrust deep, pushing Connor forward, his face banging against the Plexiglas. “Oh, fuck yeah. You like it rough, huh? I can give it to you rough as you want, Babe.”
Connor grunted and pushed back. “Yes. Harder. Fuck me.” He didn’t want to think. He just wanted to feel. Escape the hopelessness of ever finding someone he could love and be loved by in return.
His prick bobbed, slapping his lower abs with every hard, deep thrust, and gifting his skin with thick smears of pre-come. The drive to come overruled thought. Connor reached down and grabbed hold of his dick, pumping in time with the fast lunges into his ass.
The force behind his partner’s thrusts grew choppy and out of tempo, pushing into him with short, snappy jabs. Connor felt the dick inside him swell and pulse, expanding as the man neared orgasm. He tugged his cock harder, squeezing the sensitive crown on every upstroke.
He wanted to come. Now. Before the man inside him got off and left him behind. Finishing himself off with his hand was always an option (he certainly used that method enough between visits here), but it wasn’t what Connor wanted and he wasn’t up to approaching anyone else tonight.
The brunette groaned, the sound vibrating down his body and straight into Connor. “Oh, hell yeah. Close, man. Hurry up. I’m gonna…” His pelvis rocked and pulled back scant inches, before shoving back into Connor. His hips circled and his cock danced, pounding into Connor’s prostate.
Connor moaned and squeezed his eyes shut, conjuring up the one picture guaranteed to get him off in a pinch. Dark hair, midnight blue eyes, a pair of full pink lips that looked as if they could Hoover chrome off a bumper. On the silver screen of his eyelids, Connor’s dream man dropped to his knees and licked his lips, making them glisten with promise.
The cock in Connor’s ass pushed deep, hitting his prostate. Tension coiled at the base of his dick and released, white hot sparks pulsing up his shaft. His balls knotted up tight, their sac pulling into his body and contracting. His dick pulsed and jerked in his fist, orgasm exploding inside him. Hot ribbons of spunk stuttered out of him, spewing over his fist and onto the floor.
Connor’s asshole clamped down tight on the prick inside him and milked his partner to climax. The man grunted and cried out, his hips making unsteady little pumps as he filled the condom. After a heartbeat, he pulled his cock out of Connor roughly and smacked him on the ass. “Thanks. I needed that.”
Connor winced from the man’s abrupt departure as much as from the sharp sting to his left ass-cheek. He lifted his head, ready to return the sentiment, and felt the words he’d been about to say shrivel up and die inside his windpipe.
On the other side of the glass, one lean hip propped against the wall, stood Teague Johnson. Their gazes locked. Connor shivered, every inch of his body shooting to attention under Teague’s brooding stare.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Hello, my name is Ally and I'm a manlove-a-holic
It all started so innocently. It was at the height of the Lord Of The Rings movie craze, and I was totally stuck on that sweet little piece, Elijah Wood. One afternoon, I found myself bored at work. With the office and computer all to myself and time on my hands, I Googled LOTR fanfic, wanting to read some Elijah/me-in-disguise romance, preferably with lots of hot, dirty sex. I was quite surprised when the top results all involved this sort of thing: "Elijah/Dom" and "Elijah/Viggo" and most especially "Elijah/Orlando". Being the curious sort I am, I clicked on one of the "Elijah/Orlando" links. Little did I know it at the time, but my life would be forever changed.
Soon enough, I began searching for more of these stories. "Slash," they called it. It became my obsession, reading about men, both real and fictional, who I admired and/or lusted after falling in love and having raw monkey sex with each other. I couldn't stop, not that I tried really. Then one glorious day, I discovered band slash. I won't mention which band, but for the first time, I was moved to try my hand at writing it myself. A year and forty-some-odd band slash stories later, I wrote my very first original character story, and the rest, as they say, is history.
Now, it's everyone else's turn. How did you discover the joys of sweet, sweet manlove?
Everyone who posts an answer between now and midnight Eastern time on Friday, March 23rd will be entered in a drawing to win your choice of any of my already released books. This includes any of my books except What Hides Inside, which hasn't been released yet. Check out blurbs and excerpts here!
See you at the next Manlove-A-Holics meeting :D
Soon enough, I began searching for more of these stories. "Slash," they called it. It became my obsession, reading about men, both real and fictional, who I admired and/or lusted after falling in love and having raw monkey sex with each other. I couldn't stop, not that I tried really. Then one glorious day, I discovered band slash. I won't mention which band, but for the first time, I was moved to try my hand at writing it myself. A year and forty-some-odd band slash stories later, I wrote my very first original character story, and the rest, as they say, is history.
Now, it's everyone else's turn. How did you discover the joys of sweet, sweet manlove?
Everyone who posts an answer between now and midnight Eastern time on Friday, March 23rd will be entered in a drawing to win your choice of any of my already released books. This includes any of my books except What Hides Inside, which hasn't been released yet. Check out blurbs and excerpts here!
See you at the next Manlove-A-Holics meeting :D
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Test for Echo
Hello, women who love men who love men - maybe more than one! Hah. I'm just checking to see if this thing will let me post, so if you get this message my work is done. Bouncing from Google to Blogger and back, who knows where I am?
Anyway, I'm happy to announce the pending re-release of my M/M vampire novella, The Healing, early this summer. It's going to be lengthened and revised. I can't wait! More on Tuesdays!
Anyway, I'm happy to announce the pending re-release of my M/M vampire novella, The Healing, early this summer. It's going to be lengthened and revised. I can't wait! More on Tuesdays!
Hello Ladies!
Mandi, I can't thank you enough for putting this together :) It looks fabulous. I can't wait for this summer for my first m/m/f release. I had a blast writing it :) Good luck ladies on the launch of Slash and Burn!
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